


my blood is full of airplanes

by bluegothic



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Airplanes, Airports, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegothic/pseuds/bluegothic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Poindexter misses his flight to New York City by a mere five minutes, and everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. we won't be here long

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into writing Check, Please! fic, and one of my first attempts at writing anything in about a year. So I hope it doesn't suck! The first chapter will most likely be the shortest. Unbeta'd.  
> I do not claim ownership of CP or any of its characters. The title and chapter titles are taken from lyrics of the song "My Blood is Full of Airplanes" by The Cinema. This is an AU loosely based off the Jennifer E. Smith novel, "The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight" (especially at the beginning). But mostly, it's an airport AU.  
> One more note, I have read so much fic that I have a huge problem remembering what's canon and what's not, so... please forgive any discrepancies. I did my best. And I'm planning to reread CP soon so this doesn't remain a problem.
> 
> Dedicated entirely to the hell squad.

Will Poindexter impatiently tapped his fingers along to the rhythm of the tune playing in his headphones, his attention focused on a plane slowly docking into a jetway outside the window. The sky outside was dark and black, despite the light illuminating from the airport and the runways. It had stormed pretty badly in the past hour, causing a few delays ( _why couldn’t one of those have been_ his _plane?_ ) and immediate stopovers.

He still could not believe he had missed his first flight and had to take the red eye. He was 100% sure if he hadn’t been so upset with himself, his sister would have torn him to shreds over the phone when he called to tell her.

“Will, please. You can catch a later flight,” she tried to reassure him. “It could happen to anyone.”

“Yeah, well. It didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to me.”

“Okay. So you miss the rehearsal dinner. You’ve rehearsed eating dinner so many times. I’m sure it’ll come naturally to you. What matters is you’ll be here tomorrow.”

He sighed into his phone. “Right.”

“Tomorrow is what matters, bro.”

“I know, I know. You know I wouldn’t miss it,” he paused, and briefly wondered if leaving earlier and driving down to New York would have been a smarter decision. “I’d start crawling there now if I had to.”

He could almost hear her smile over the phone. “I know you would. Love you. Have a safe flight.”

“Thanks. I love you too. See you soon.”

He replayed the conversation over again in his head. She hadn’t been disappointed like he’d anticipated, but… in a way, that disappointed _him_ even more. _He_ was the one who forgot his blazer in the garment back in his room and had to turn back for it, causing him to miss his goddamn flight by _five minutes._ Literally _five_ minutes. And now he’d been waiting for the next flight out for almost three hours now. He didn’t live close enough to Portland Airport for going home to wait it out to make logical sense.

He wasn’t in the mood to have to deal with his brother right now, anyway. That was a potential disaster he’d save for his return on Monday,

The woman seated two seats over from him let out an audible groan as her four year old daughter tossed crayons at a guy seated across the aisle, who was too busy scribbling furiously in a black notebook to dodge her assault.

The young man looked up from his work when a red one hit him right in the center of his forehead.

“I am so, so sorry,” said the little girl’s mother, wrapping her hand around her small wrist. “She’s not good with sitting still for long periods of time.”

The little girl’s target laughed. “It’s cool. She’s got an arm on her.” He collected the crayons that had fallen around his feet and walked across the aisle to return them to the woman. “You may have a major league pitcher on your hands.”

The woman laughed and thanked the stranger for returning the crayons. He returned to his seat and his work, glancing over at Will, who hadn’t realized he’d been staring until then.

He blinked and looked away instantly, feeling the heat pooling in his face. The man - boy? Will couldn’t exactly put an age to him - seemed to just smile and shake his head.

His flight wouldn’t be boarding for awhile, and Will was starting to get hungry. The food court in the airport was ridiculously overpriced, but being that the flight to New York would take just over an hour, he doubted he’d be served more than a bag of peanuts once they were in the air.

His hunger trumped the ever-present voice of reason in the back of his head. Shelling out a few extra bucks on food would be worth it - he was missing dinner, after all.

Reluctantly, he rose to his feet and turned to the woman beside him, whose daughter was now engrossed with her mother’s cell phone.

“Would you mind watching my bag for me? I’m gonna run to-”

The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry, no.”

“I’ll be like, five minutes. Tops.”

She frowned. “You know, it’s illegal, and there are cameras all over the place. I don’t want to risk any trouble.”

Will sighed. “Alright, thanks anyway.”

He began to gather his things; he hadn’t packed much - just his best suit (neatly ironed and pressed and kept in a garment bag), a small bag filled with one change of clothes and clean underwear, and his laptop case. But it was still too much to lug around with him across the gate and terminal.

The guy across the aisle slipped his notebook into a knapsack, which he then slung onto his shoulders, and picked up his rolling suitcase.

“I’ll give you a hand,” he said, offering him a friendly smile. He picked up Will’s garment bag and gently hung it over his shoulder.

"Uh, thanks,” Will replied, his voice breaking. “I’m just heading over to grab a slice of pizza.”

“Sounds great. I could use a bite eat,” the helpful stranger said in return, as though Will had invited him, as opposed to him having technically invited himself.

“So where to are you headed?” the guy asked after they arrived at the food court, taking a place in line behind Will.

“JFK. New York.”

“Cool,” he said. “Me too. I’m Derek, by the way. But friends call me Nursey, so feel free.”

“Nursey?” Will asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s a hockey nickname.”

“Oh? You play?” Will asked, surprised. This guy - Derek/Nursey/whatever - didn’t really look like the hockey-playing type, with his fitted jeans and obscure band t-shirt.

“I play for a private school back in New York, actually. Do you play?” Nursey asked him.

Private school student. So he must be around his age, then. It was kind of hard to tell; the dude had about as much facial hair as Will's uncle did.

Will nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Sweet! Kindred spirits and whatnot.”

Will nodded, unsure of how to respond. Social interactions weren’t exactly his forte, and this guy struck him as the chatty type.

“So are you from around here?” asked Nursey, to which Will responded with a nod. “What is bringing you to New York City?”

While he realized this guy was just making polite conversation, Will felt somewhat… annoyed by his questions. Couldn’t he just order a slice of pizza and eat it in peace?

“My sister is getting married tomorrow,” he said, offering him no more information than that.

“Aw, cool. Explains the suit bag here. How long will you be in the city?”

“Just the weekend,” Will replied. He was next in line, grateful for the opportunity to try and drop this conversation.

He ordered his pizza and a can of soda and headed to a small table, Nursey trailing closely behind. He pretended not to catch a glimpse of the dark skin beneath the hem of his shirt as he leaned over to place his suit neatly on an empty chair. Because that would be a weird thing to stare at.

The airport terminal was filled with the sound of busied footsteps, ringing cell phones, and mix-matched conversation. It was enough to make someone’s head spin. Will thought for a moment about slipping his headphones back on, but that was rude given the fact that he had company.

Maybe he didn’t flourish in social situations, but he liked to believe he knew enough to not be a complete dick.

“So, uh, you’re from New York then?” Will began, after suddenly feeling weird about the silence that had fallen between them. “What brought you to Maine?”

“My sister actually got married here.”

Will felt his eyes grow wider at the coincidence before Nursey let out a laugh.

“I’m just kidding. I flew up to Canada to spend the weekend with an old friend of mine and some of his new teammates. We were literally in the air for like, not even a half hour when that storm hit and we had to make an emergency stopover here.” He explained. “Your face just now was priceless, though.”

Will bit back the urge to roll his eyes and into his slice of pizza.

“So, we’re on the same flight, then.” Nursey deduced. “Where are you sitting?”

Digging into his bag, Will pulled out his ticket and placed it on the table. “17-B,” he told him after swallowing a piece of pizza.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nursey exclaimed, eyeing Will’s boarding pass. “I’m 17-C.”

“No kidding,” Will said, trying his best to hide his utter annoyance. He was stressed out enough about this flight as it was, and this chatty hipster, it seemed, was about to make it worse.

The two of them made more small talk as they finished their meals, and Will learned that Nursey was in fact his age, that they were both considering one of the same schools for the following fall, and that he spent the past four days playing hockey in Canada with some students who went there. Most of this was enough to be a recipe for an instant friendship, but that wasn't the kind of thing that just happened for guys like Will. Besides, this guy was too chatty for Will's liking.

It wasn’t until they made their way back to the gate that the conversation finally dwindled, ending with a warm “I’ll catch you on the plane!” from Nursey. Will was able to return to somberly looking out the window with his headphones in.

He pretended not to notice himself glancing over at Nursey’s direction every now and then, watching him continue to furiously scrawl into his notebook, only stopping once to take out his phone and type something into it.

 _What kind of hockey player writes so much?_ Will wondered, turning back to watching the planes outside.

 

✓✓✓✓

 

About thirty minutes later, and his flight was finally boarding. He shuffled his way onto the plane and found his seat, storing his things into the overhead compartment. Nursey joined him a few minutes later, and as he squeezed through the cramped space between the coach seats to his spot near the window, he bumped his head on the overhead and fell directly into Will’s lap.

“Shit, sorry!” Nursey hurriedly collected himself, visibly embarrassed, struggling in the limited space to get back on his feet.

Will’s brain was in a whirlwind. Thoughts ranging from _“what the fuck get the fuck off”_ to _“what the fuck there’s a guy in my fucking_ lap _”_ raced through his mind and seemed to reverberate off the walls of the plane, shouting into his ear.

After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was most likely about twenty-five seconds, Nursey managed to get himself off of Will and into his seat, his face a deep shade of red Will had never seen on anyone before.

At least his face wasn’t the only one to change color for once.  
  
The next hour and ten minutes were, without a doubt, going to be the longest hour and ten minutes of his life.


	2. catching moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I wanted this chapter up WEEKS AND WEEKS sooner than this. But life and work and personal stuff got in the way a lot. But here you go! I hope it does not disappoint.
> 
> Also, please let it be known that I tried really hard to work Dex into the context here over Will but without the hockey setting, I couldn't make it work believably (imo??). And yes, the perspectives will flip by chapter. To make up for non-regular posting, I may extend this by a chapter or two.
> 
> Anyway. Hope you've all been well! Thank you for the continued interest in this story.

Nursey drummed his fingers against the armrest of his seat and looked out the window, anxiously awaiting departure. He hated to admit it, but he was kind of grateful for the buffer seat between him and the red headed stranger he had met just moments earlier. Normally, that kind of thing didn’t phase him, but after having nearly given the guy a lap dance, he was pretty mortified.

The boy - William, as his boarding pass read - was rapidly tapping away on his phone, presumably typing out a long message of some sort, noticeably doing his best to ignore looking at Nursey.

An exasperated woman appeared in the aisle beside their row, towing a small carry-on bag on her arm. She was petite, possibly in her mid to late 60s, and looked as if she had just sprinted in order to make it on the plane on time. William immediately rose to his feet to offer her assistance in storing the bag overhead.

“Oh. Thank you,” she smiled at him. She touched his arm before he could sit back down, “would you terribly mind if I took the aisle seat?” she asked politely. “Not to sound indelicate, but I need to be able to get up easily for bathroom access. Airplanes make me nervous.”

He smiled, but there was an uneasiness in his tone that Nursey could sense. “Of course,” he said as he shuffled to take the seat beside Nursey.

“Thank you again, sweetheart,” replied the woman.

Nursey made the mistake of glancing over at him, and fresh humiliation pooled in the pit of his stomach again. He pushed it down, though, and tried to regain his cool. He wasn’t about to be this awkward moment’s bitch.

“Back for more then?” he said, jokingly ribbing him.

The boy looked straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze. He could tell just by looking that he had made the boy uncomfortable.

“Hey, man. I’m sorry. I was just trying to-”

“I get what you were trying to do.”

That stirred something in Nursey. “Oh. Okay, then.”

The redhead was silent for a moment before sighing and turning his head slightly. “I didn’t mean to sound, like... Rude or whatever. I just get kind of tense on airplanes.”

Something about his demeanor and in the tone of his voice led Nursey to believe this kid was kind of tense in general, but he decided not to push it. He barely knew him. And fear of flying was a totally legitimate thing. Nursey wasn’t a huge fan himself, if he was totally honest.

The woman on the other boy’s left was scribbling away in a book of crossword puzzles, and a voice overhead announced that the captain had turned on the fasten seatbelts sign, indicating that takeoff would soon commence.

“Let’s start over,” Nursey started, ignoring the fact that Will had already turned his gaze away from him. “Hi. I’m Nursey. What’s bringing you to New York?”

The redhead sighed. The plane was reversing, slowly distancing itself from the jetway. “Sister’s wedding.”

Ignoring the sharp tone in his voice (and writing it off as a side effect of flight anxiety), Nursey nodded and continued. “I didn’t get your name.” Which was actually true. The only reason he knew it at all was because he glanced at the boy’s boarding pass earlier. William Poindexter had not formally introduced himself.

“...Will,” he said after a moment.

His pale hands were gripping the armrests of his seat so hard, they were turning red. So red that the freckles on his knuckles blended into his skin. That was when Nursey noticed he had as many freckles on his hands as he did on his face.

“Will,” Nursey repeated. “Where is your sister getting married?”

“A hotel. I can’t think of the name of it right now.” The plane was moving forward now, gaining speed. Will closed his eyes. “Address is on the invitation.”

Nursey paused for a moment before asking, “Are you meeting the rest of your family there? I noticed you’re traveling alone.”

To this, Will gave no response. In fact, he gave no indication that he’d even considered his question. Nursey frowned, realizing he kind of prying. If it was a sensitive topic, he had no place in asking any further.

He decided it was best that he changed the subject instead. “So this guy I used to go to school with,” he began, “Shitty. He’s in college now. Samwell, if you’re familiar with the place. Anyway, he invited some of us up to Canada for the weekend. Some of his new teammates were there too. One of their parents own the property up there or something. It was pretty sick. You ever play hockey on a pond?”

Will’s eyes remained shut, but he finally spoke. “Yeah, I have. And I’ve looked at Samwell,” he confessed, something that didn’t surprise Nursey - it had one of the best hockey programs in the Northeast. “Sounds like a cool guy, your friend. Is that his actual name?” he asked doubtfully.

Nursey smirked, even though Will couldn’t see him. “Basically the only one he’ll respond to,” he said, continuing his story. “Anyway, I’m the last one to arrive. And they’re all already out playing. But I don’t know this, and I sort of make myself welcome in the last room, because that’s where Shitty said he’d be.”

The plane was taking off now, but Nursey kept talking. “I put my bag on the ground, decide to freshen up, whatever. I grab a new sweatshirt, head to the bathroom - which apparently doesn’t lock, which would have been nice to know, because there’s a _girl_ in there. Yeah, I know. Luckily she’d just finished doing whatever she was doing but like… what a welcoming, huh?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk a _lot_?”

Nursey replied with a question of his own. “Did you realize, at any time, while you were busy being annoyed with my talking, that we had taken off?”

“Oh,” the boy had said after a moment. “I didn’t- Thanks, then.”

The sky outside the window was pitch black, and the woman in the aisle seat had somehow managed to drift off to sleep.

“It’s nothing.”

The conversation between them had lulled to a silence. Rather than pushing any more interaction, Nursey pulled out his journal and opened up to a blank page, staring out into the endlessly black sky for any sort of inspiration. Next to him, Will was scrolling aimlessly through his phone. The woman in the aisle seat had already somehow managed to fall asleep.

After about fifteen minutes of a creative block, Nursey closed his book and placed it next to him on his seat.

“So,” it was Will’s turn to break the silence now. “Are you also planning on going to Samwell for school?”

“Probably. It’s a good school. I know people there. And their hockey team is pretty solid.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it is.”

“How funny would it be if we both just showed up to hockey tryouts?”

For whatever reason, Will didn’t seem as amused by the idea as he was. Instead, he nodded towards where Nursey had stuck his journal.

“Are you big into writing or something?”

“It’s a hobby. A life outside of hockey, you know.”

Will smirked. “A poetic jock, huh? You aiming to be ironic or something?”

“Who said I wrote poetry?” Nursey asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Just an assumption. I’m right, though, aren’t I? You have a… poetry major look to you.”

Amused, Nursey crossed his arms and probed on. “Oh? And what makes you say that? What does a poetry major look like?”

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. You?” he stared at Nursey for a moment. “The whole… high maintenance grungy hipster chic thing, you know?”

Now, Nursey was kind of offended. High maintenance? “Excuse me?”

“You know… like. You obviously try kind of hard to make it look like you don’t try.”

“First of all, ouch. And second, I’ll have you know, I actually don’t try. I throw on whatever I see first in the morning. It just so happens that everything I own is, what did you call it? “Grungy hipster chic?””

Will shrugged. “I stand corrected, then. My apologies.”

He said this, but he sounded more amused than serious. Which made Nursey chuckle, for whatever reason.

Changing the subject, Nursey asked, “So. Have you ever been to New York before?”

“New York City, no. But I’ve been upstate before with my uncle.”

“Do you plan on doing any touristy things in your time there? After the wedding, of course.”

Will shook his head. “Nah, I’ve never really been into sightseeing. The most I’ll do is probably try some of this pizza you guys never stop bragging about.”

“It’s not all hype, man. I promise you.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Trust me. But you should totally take advantage of the city, especially if you’ve never been. If you change your mind,” Nursey said, tearing a piece of paper out of his journal and pulling out his pen, “feel free to text me. I’d be glad to throw suggestions your way. Or if you just want the hookup on hidden pizza gems in the city. Whatever, bro. I’ve got your back.”

Will looked at the piece of paper in his hand almost absentmindedly before accepting it. “Um, sure. Alright… Thanks.”


End file.
